Today I want to talk about me & my battle with depression. I feel a little bad calling it a battle because a lot of people have it way worse that I do but it is something I struggle with almost daily. It took me a long time to admit it and even longer to get help. I'm doing better now that I'm on Zoloft and cutting myself some slack. I had it in my head that as a stay at home mom my house should be spotless like on TV, something that is impossible to do if you live in a house with kids. I could literally spend 8 hours straight cleaning and work through every room in my house but as soon as I leave a child comes through and dumps out all the Barbies. Or uses every color in the rainbow to decor my walls, carpet and sofa. Or spills her entire bowl of cereal on the kitchen floor. And the more time I spend cleaning the bigger mess they make because they are bored & want my attention. Which I totally don't get because I think I'm kind of boring and dumb. I totally don't know how to play anymore. My Barbie always says the wrong things (like "Sorry, I can't go camping. I'm busy doing all this laundry." or "I'm making broccoli!") & I want to play Candyland by the rules not just make my little man cartwheel across the board and pretend to eat the candy castle. But despite my shortcomings they still want to play with me. Which I'm starting to figure out is a blessing. I'm slowly learning how to let go of my idea of "perfect" and just enjoy what I have. My kids are teaching me what perfect really is. Yes it can be a clean house and nutritious dinner but it's also grubby hands from finding "nature" and giggling until you cry because apparently the word fart is the funniest thing ever. It's those sweaty, sleepy snuggles from an tired 2 year old and private dance recitals by a budding ballerina.
It's every second of everyday. And some days I will forget that fact but I hope those days will be few and far between. This is what I've been reminding myself with.
Song for a Fifth Child
by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.
Thanks again
Lisa for sharing your awesomeness with me.